


Once Winged, now Chained to the Earth

by lucradiss



Series: MCYT Medieval AU [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Sad Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, the death is not temporary sorry, the death isn't the main part of the story don't worry, this is just another one of my medieval au things lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:21:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29194494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucradiss/pseuds/lucradiss
Summary: READ THE TAGS PLS LMAO"Techno's boots tapped against the marble floor with resounding clicks, the throne room pin-droppingly silent despite it being packed from wall to wall with nobles and lords and people of the court alike. They did not speak, their tears having been already wept and disposed of the day prior when their king was put to rest. Former king.The throne sat daunting on its platform, the thick green fabric on it reminding Techno too much of the man who used to sit there. Honor had gotten Phil there and honor had damned him from it, punctuated by an abdomen bleeding out upon the floor on which Techno walked. He could still see Phil lying there, skin rapidly paling and wings for once out and showcased in a way techno once would have found exciting. He remembered the weak smile Phil had given him, reaching up to touch Techno's face gently and accidentally smearing blood on his cheek before the life drained from those strikingly blue eyes and the hand fell, hitting the marble with a muted thump."Or, in which Techno doesn't want to be king.
Relationships: Technoblade & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Series: MCYT Medieval AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2143413
Comments: 7
Kudos: 135





	Once Winged, now Chained to the Earth

**Author's Note:**

> This is set years into the future.  
> For reference, Techno and Wil are 19, Tommy is 16. Wilbur went on a journey to qualify for his ring, which is what Maesters wear to signify that they're Maesters in my AU. Because Techno was found first, Phil decreed that if anything happened, Techno would be first in line for the throne.

For as long as Technoblade could remember, he's danced.

His life was a waltz, and the song the world played for him was vicious, loud and thunderous. Drums that banged too loud, strings that were plucked too hard, a choir of voices that seemed to scream rather than sing around him at all times, and still he danced.

Anger was his melody, chaos his symphony, betrayal his partner.

Maybe that's why the silence unsettled him so.

Techno's boots tapped against the marble floor with resounding clicks, the throne room pin-droppingly silent despite it being packed from wall to wall with nobles and lords and people of the court alike. They did not speak, their tears having been already wept and disposed of the day prior when their king was put to rest. _Former_ king.  
The throne sat daunting on its platform, the thick green fabric on it reminding Techno too much of the man who used to sit there. Honor had gotten Phil there and honor had damned him from it, punctuated by an abdomen bleeding out upon the floor on which Techno walked. He could still see Phil lying there, skin rapidly paling and wings for once out and showcased in a way techno once would have found exciting. He remembered the weak smile Phil had given him, reaching up to touch Techno's face gently and accidentally smearing blood on his cheek before the life drained from those strikingly blue eyes and the hand fell, hitting the marble with a muted thump.

Oh, how the voices had wailed. Oh, how Technoblade had, too. 

Despite the short distance from the grand, gilded throneroom doors to the platform, Techno felt like he was both miles away from the throne and far too close, the metal feathered wings stretching from either side that used to comfort him only serving now to suffocate him, making him feel so dreadfully claustrophobic. Wilbur's gaze made it even worse.

His brother had been on his way home from his travels when it had happened. Wilbur was training to become a maester, and he'd decided that learning everything there was to know about the medicine of every kingdom was going to help. Their father had agreed, of course- Wilbur was smart, he knew what he was doing, and the grand maester had done the same when he was younger. So, off Wilbur went for three years, and back he came to a dead father and a brother who would now be king. 

Wilbur had walked through the gates, a jovial grin on his slightly older face, and seen Techno, on the floor of the throne room, the blood already cleaned from the floor but not from his mind, despondent, mourning. Wilbur had to get the news from an edging-on hysterical Tommy, and then the man- Techno looked at Wilbur and no longer saw a boy, but a man grown- had rushed back to Techno, to hold him close. Techno couldn't help but cry, then.

Nobody was crying now, though. Wilbur's eyes were sharp as daggers on Techno's skin, a concealed bitterness, a resentment behind them. Techno knew why- he couldn't protect their father, the king. He wasn't there to save him. He wasn't there, and Techno was dying inside because of it. Why did he have to blow his father off to read in the library again? Why couldn't he have gone to train, like he was supposed to and did every day? Why couldn't he have been there? If he had been there, they would all be having dinner right now and talking about Wilbur's travels- not... not this.

He stepped onto the platform and turned, the long mantle he'd gotten from Phil all those years ago dragging up the stairs and twisting around him. He had donned his best white shirt and his best black pants and his best boots, but he still felt so, so dirty. The blood on his hands had a way of lingering, even after washing it away. Phil lingered.

He took a look at the grand maester Badboyhalo as the man stood next to him, the traditional Badlandic hooded grey robes of grief still shrouding his face. He looked at Techno grimly, holding the golden crown of kings in his hands with a grip like a vice. Techno nodded, then looked back out at the crowd. He heard Bad sigh.

"I present to you," he began, voice choked and yet so, so dreadfully clear, "Of houses Blood God and Slumberlad, first of his name, titled null, Ruler of the land and protector of the realm, rightful and newly-anointed King of Esempee, Technoblade." He moved mechanically behind Techno and, gently, with the hands of the man who had fixed his cuts and bruises as a kid, who'd shown him how to cope with the aching soreness from training, who'd sewn up every single wound from his pit fights and helped to hide them from Phil after, he put the crown onto Techno's head. "Long may he reign."

A chorus of "Long may he reign" erupted from the crowd, but Techno's trained ears picked up a certain silence from his left. Deciding to pay it no mind right now, he sat down on his father's- no, _his-_ throne and, with all the strength he could muster, raised his chin regally. If he was going to be forced into rule at the young age of nineteen, he was going to do it right.

He didn't notice Wilbur turning on his heel and leaving the minute Techno sat down.

\---

When Techno dragged his feet into the common room of the living quarters, he no longer felt regal. He stopped in front of the couch, unlinked his mantle, stared at it until he felt the light dissociation of spacing out pulling at his vision, sighed, and threw it down before flopping with it. He leaned his head back onto the back of the couch and groaned, rubbing his temples against the growing and throbbing headache he had.   
He'd had to shake hands with nobles, put on a smile everyone knew was fake, and assure everyone that he would be a good king. A just king. Like his father. Someone had told him that good kings listen to their advisors when they're young, and wise ones listened thereafter, but every other piece of advice slipped through his brain. He couldn't think anymore. All he wanted to do was sleep.

He heard a door open and opened his eyes, looking up at the intruder. Tall, lanky, yellow sweater, unreadable expression. Wilbur.

"Wil," He said softly, a sad, genuine smile finding itself onto his face. "It's good to see you."

Wilbur didn't respond, standing his ground just beyond the threshold of the room, staring Techno down. This unsettled the young king.

"I feel as though we haven't spoken since your return," Techno continued. They really hadn't spoken- Wilbur had come in, comforted Techno, helped prepare for the hasty funeral and transition of power, and they hadn't uttered a real word to one another. "How were your travels? Did you... Do you qualify for your ring?"

Wilbur, once again, didn't respond, though his gaze hardened. Techno bit his lip, an old nervous habit from childhood, though now he found it hard to do so over the tusks that now curled over his top lip. He didn't know what to say- Wilbur had always been bright, sunny, intelligent. He would always sing and he would be the first to comfort in situations of distress. He was the light in hard times, a pillar of strength. Techno didn't know what to do with this coldness. 

"You've grown," He near-whispered after a moment's silence. Wilbur finally gave a reaction, scoffing and crossing his arms.

"Of course, I've fucking grown. It's been three years. You've grown, too. Look at yourself! Fucking _King_ of _Esempee_. Oh, should I be calling you 'Your Grace', now, _Your Grace?_ " 

Techno winced at the daggers in Wilbur's words. He was angry. Techno didn't know how to deal with Wilbur's anger. He sighed, leaning forward onto his knees and putting his head in his hands.

"Wilbur, I-"

"You had _three years_ with him, Technoblade. _Three fucking years_ , and you couldn't take the time to help him in his _one_ time of need. When he's helped us, helped you, more times than I can count on all the fingers in Esempee."

He gripped his hair tightly. "Wilbur..."

"Don't 'Wilbur' me! I left thinking he'd be fine, and if he wasn't that you'd protect him! You've always protected us! You _let_ our father _die_. You fucking failed _everyone_ , both in this castle and in all of Esempee." Techno looked up sorrowfully to see a snarl pulling at his brother's mouth and a finger pointing accusatorily at his face. "You killed him! You're no better than the animals your sorry bastard ass was somehow amalgamated with! Fucking _monster!_ "

Techno drew a sharp breath. Wilbur covered his mouth, eyes wide. That word was off-limits. It always had been. It had been whispered behind Techno's back his entire life, but his ears had always found a way to pick it up. He'd be dubbed a monster, fight the poor soul who uttered it, then would feel like a monster all over again when he had blood on his hands. It had taken years for their father to convince Techno that no, he wasn't a monster, and that just because he occasionally lost control of the voices that rang through his skull, that didn't mean that he was evil.   
Techno felt like one now, and there was nobody there to dispute that anymore.

Wilbur's gaze suddenly lost the icy chill they'd had, adopting a softer, more apologetic shine. "Techno, I-"

"Go get somethin' to eat," Techno barked, trying to hide the watery waver to his tone. "I'm goin' out."

He stood up stiffly, walking out of the common room and towards one of Tommy's tunnels that lead to the woods- the guards didn't know about the tunnels; he doubted their father even had. Techno would be alone, and that was how he intended to keep it. He ignored Wilbur's calls behind him.

\--

He walked around the castle, finding an old, weathered ladder that he and Tommy had made as children to get up onto one of the roof's platforms. He ran his hand along one of the rungs and sighed, testing its strength with a foot. It held up, thankfully, and after a long, anxiety-inducing climb, Techno was at the top. He turned and stood there for a second, watching the sun close it's descent into the earth, before walking up to a higher ledge and laying down the incline. He pulled his braid out from under him and studied it- his father had taught him how to braid it. 

He groaned in frustration and sat back up, pulling his knees to his chest, letting his eyes linger long enough on the setting sun that they burned just a little bit, and then closed them, trying to keep back the tears that had begun pressuring behind his eyes.   
He didn't know what to do. Phil had prepared him for this day, yes- when he'd take up the throne, next in the line of succession. Wilbur always had little interest in ruling- he was always more musical, more healing, more artistic. Technoblade had perhaps wanted the throne less than his brother, but he knew what had to be done and he knew he was going to be the one to have to do it. As the strongest, as the most literal, as the most focused between him and his brother, Technoblade was, in all honesty, the only option that could ever work. Poor Tommy; all he ever wanted was to become king, but the curse of age was heavy and oppressive. Techno and Wilbur both would have to perish before he donned the golden crown. 

Knowing what he had to do didn't make this any easier, however. Just days after his father's death, he was being coronated and sitting in that stupid throne with that stupid crown that only looked good on Phil anyhow. Those wings weren't Technoblade, the green of that throne wasn't Technoblade, the crown wasn't Technoblade. He was a fighter, a soldier, a monster, not a king, and even though everyone knew it, his father had always assured him he'd grow into the role. Techno sighed. He supposed he would have to now. The burden of responsibility weighed heavy on the nineteen-year-old's shoulders.   
He choked on a sudden sob and put his hand to his face, pulling back and finding tears on his fingers. His breath hitched and he whined quietly, putting his head in his knees.

"What am I gonna do, dad?" He whimpered to himself. "I don't know what I'm doin'."

"First things first, you could get off the fucking roof and go talk to Wilbur."

Technoblade suddenly turned at the voice, seeing his sixteen-year-old brother standing on the roof behind him, hands on his hips and a disapproving expression on his face. He quickly turned back, wiping his tears.

"Go away, Tommy."

He heard a scoff and footsteps once again behind him, then out of the corner of his eye he saw Tommy sit next to him. "No," he responded, his voice much softer than it had been. "Not until I know you're not gonna jump off the roof and leave it all to fucking Wilbur. I don't think I can handle bards in the throneroom every day."

Technoblade huffed a laugh. "Not gonna happen, don't you worry. I just... came here to think."

"Is that why you're crying?"

"I'm not cryin'! I'm..." He sighed. "It's all just so hard. I don't know what I'm doin', and- and- I just miss 'im, y'know?

Tommy pursed his lips and looked away from Techno, out at the steadily darkening forest on the ground below them. "Yeah, I do. But we can't bring him back now, and I know he always said revenge was for rich fools and poor souls, but... _aether_ , all I want to do right now is bury that green bastard in the fucking dirt."

Technoblade barked a watery laugh. "Yeah, yeah. Me too, Toms."

He looked at his little brother, who had fallen silent. Tommy was nearly the spitting image of their father physically, despite not sharing his blood. That coveted golden hair, those eyes so blue and so sharp that they could cut through steel. That smile, with one dimple on the right side of his face, that somehow Phil had as well. They were related in all but blood, and it showed. The only missing piece was that Tommy didn't have those wings.

"Every time I look in the mirror I see him, Techno," He said quietly, reading his brother's mind. "I hate it."

"I can have the servants remove the mirrors in your chambers if you'd wish," Techno responded, his answers practical as always. He wasn't the best at showing support emotionally. Tommy knew this.  
  
The boy shook his head and put up a hand in polite refusal. "No, it's alright. It's not the biggest deal in the world. It's just hard."

"I understand."

And with that, they fell into silence. It was comfortable- Tommy was almost never silent, but he had been in the few days since the incident. For years, Techno had wished only for Tommy to _shut up_ , but now that it'd happened it was just rather unnerving. Techno found himself wishing for the rambunctious yelling and exaggerated storytelling that came with his young brother.  
Techno felt a weight on his shoulder and turned, seeing Tommy resting his head and watching the stars as they peaked out from a pink-ish sky. Tears bubbled up in his eyes and rolled down his cheek, making their home on Techno's white shirt, but Techno didn't mind. He put his hand around his brother's shoulder, carding his hand through the younger boy's hair like Phil always used to when they had nightmares. If Techno's words couldn't suffice in these situations, he would make sure his actions would. 

"Mind if I join as well?"

Techno didn't turn, but Tommy lifted his head, wiped his tears, and looked at their third brother, who was stood behind them, probably coming from the same window Tommy had. Techno didn't want to face Wilbur- their father had died and it was Techno's fault, and Wilbur had every right to absolutely despise him. He was a halfling, a monster, and he always would be. 

"Yeah, c'mere," Tommy beckoned for their brother to sit next to Techno. "I'm gonna head inside. You lot should... should talk." He stood and brushed himself off, putting a hand on Techno's shoulder lovingly and letting it linger for a moment before stalking off with those lanky limbs of his. Techno touched the place where Tommy's hand had been- the boy had always been too mature for his own good, and his emotional intelligence was staggering. Despite his brash, dumb, kid-like behavior, Tommy was so, so very kind and so smart. Techno was so proud, and he knew Phil was too.   
Techno sighed as Wilbur sat on his right, looking out onto the scenery in front of him.

"You didn't come up here to jump, did you?" Wilbur asked after a moment, his tone betraying his apprehension.

Techno huffed a chuckle, looking down at his lap. "Tommy asked me the same thing- no, I just came up here to think. I couldn't do that to you guys, losin' Phil and then me... Plus, I know you really don't want the throne, and you'd be next in line. I doubt the fall would do anythin' more than sprain my ankle anyway, it would be all pain with no gain."

Wilbur nodded in understanding, still not meeting Techno's eyes.

"Sorry I blew up on you," He said after a moment, his voice nearly a whisper. "You didn't deserve that. I know you're having a hard time dealing with it- we all are. I just-" He cut himself off to sniffle and Techno looked at him, seeing tears running down his face. "I just can't believe he's gone."

Techno sighed, looking away again. "Neither can I. You were right, y'know- I basically killed 'im. I wasn't there. I shoulda been, but I wasn't. Maybe if I was, we'd be in a different situation, but-"

"No, no, no, don't start that with me, Technoblade." Wilbur whipped his head around in incredulity. "This is not your fault. Don't believe my words spat from a place of anger and grief. I take them back tenfold. You were and are a wonderful son and brother, and you will make an absolutely amazing king. Dad would be so proud."

Techno looked at Wilbur with sudden tears in his eyes. "Wil..."

Wilbur gave a watery chuckle and opened his arms. He always was the more comforting of the twins. "C'mere, Tech."

And Techno crashed into his brother's arms, who caught him with a slight 'oomph', and wept freely, more than he ever had before, mourning the death of his father as Tommy watched from a window, devising a plan to make the man who killed him pay in blood.

Techno had always danced. But Tommy's waltz was just beginning, and the song his chorus sang was revenge.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Thank you for reading.  
> There won't be any new stuff for a short while, as I'll be recovering from top surgery! I rly love writing for this AU and I hope you enjoy it as much as I do. 
> 
> If you have any questions about me or my AU, please shoot em to me in the comments or on twitter @ Lucaguts! I love hearing from y'all. Ily!


End file.
